Rogue Encounter
by deaka
Summary: First meeting between Luke Skywalker and Wedge Antilles in the hallways of Yavin IV’s base… Set during ANH. Friendship vignette, no slash.


_Title: _**Rogue Encounter**

_Characters: _Wedge Antilles, Luke Skywalker

_Category: _Vignette

_Setting_: During _A New Hope._

_Disclaimer: _I don't own Star Wars and make no profit from this.

_Summary: _Two men who have more in common than it may seem meet in the hallways of Yavin IV's base…

R&R is greatly appreciated.

* * *

Wedge Antilles hurried down the wide stone hall of the Yavin base, weaving around milling pilots. Some already wore orange flightsuits, while others, like Wedge, were on their way to the locker rooms to suit up.

Wedge had barely had time to stop and think since he and the rest of the squadron had received an urgent summons recalling them from Commendor. On arrival at Yavin IV, they'd found the entire base on full alert. A concise briefing from General Jan Dodonna had followed, and a very short period to refresh. Then the Death Star had appeared in system. And now they were back in action again.

Wedge ducked around a tall pilot sprinting in the opposite direction and collided with someone else – a young man about his own age, maybe slightly younger, wearing white clothes. Wedge grabbed his arm reflexively; they both regained their balance, and he let go. "Sorry."

"No problem," the other man said. About Wedge's height, he had light brown hair and eyes that were an oddly intense shade of blue. Wedge didn't recognise him. A fresh recruit? He cast a glance down the crowded hall behind him, then looked past Wedge.

"Lost?" Wedge asked.

The young man flicked him a grateful glance. "A little," he said. "I'm looking for the locker rooms. We suit up there, right?"

Wedge nodded, and said, "I'm heading down as well. I'll show you the way."

"Thanks." The young man dropped into pace with Wedge. "These halls all seem to look alike."

"They do at first," Wedge agreed, glancing at him. "You're new?"

The man nodded. "Just arrived." His eyes shone with excitement, making him look even younger. "I can't wait to get up in an X-Wing."

Wedge's eyebrows rose. "They're sending you up?"

The young man nodded again. Wedge frowned. "How many times have you flown an X-Wing before?"

"Well… none." The young man was eyeing the crowd. "But I've flown T-16s since I was fourteen. I've been told they're similar."

Wedge's frown deepened. "I suppose," he said doubtfully. What was Alliance Command playing at? He wouldn't last ten minutes.

The young man looked back at Wedge and flashed a wide grin. "Luke Skywalker," he said, and held out his hand.

"Wedge Antilles," Wedge said, and shook. "Where are you from, Luke?"

For some reason, that wiped the grin off the young man's face. "Tatooine," he said. "I'm from Tatooine." He looked off to the side.

"Oh," Wedge said. Then, clicking his fingers, "Luke Skywalker! I thought I recognised that name. Biggs has mentioned you."

The young man's head turned sharply. "You know Biggs?"

"Sure," Wedge said. "He's in my squadron. Saw him oh, ten minutes ago. He's around here somewhere."

"Biggs is _here_?"

Wedge nodded. "You'll probably see him out in the docking bay."

Luke flashed that grin again. "I hope so," he said. "I'd like to see him. So much has happened." The grin faded a little, and his eyes seemed to darken. But it didn't last for long, and the young man's gaze was back on Wedge. "What'd he say about me?"

Wedge lifted his eyebrows. "Said that you're the best pilot in the Outer Rim territories. He even claims you did a telon wind-twirl in a T-16."

"Only one?" The young man's grin was full of the cockiness of youth. Wedge remembered that feeling. It didn't seem that long ago he'd felt it, he thought, and then realised why: it hadn't been. It only felt like years. "He almost wiped his skyhopper out trying to copy me," Luke added. "Bet he didn't mention that."

Wedge half-smiled. "No, he didn't." They turned a corner. Wedge eyed the other man curiously. His white clothes were worn and stained, and his shoes seemed worse for wear. He also seemed to be wearing a stormtrooper's utility belt around his tunic. "Biggs also said he didn't think you'd ever get off-planet, and that it was a real waste. Said your family was against it…"

He knew the answer to his unspoken question immediately. It was there in the other man's eyes, suddenly full of pain and yet so dull. Wedge recognised the expression. It had greeted him in the mirror every morning for a while there, and sometimes still did. So he wasn't surprised when Luke said, his voice flat, "They died."

Wedge hesitated, then caught himself. He'd hated the awkward silences that always came with those words when he'd been on the receiving end. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said instead.

Luke looked away. Wedge forced himself to continue. "My parents died as well, a few years ago. They ran a refuelling platform in the Corellian system. A pirate on the run from CorSec decided to use the platform as a diversion, launching during the fuelling procedure. My parents died saving the rest of the station from going up in the flames."

Luke met his eyes. "You must be proud of them."

Wedge looked at him a moment. "Yes," he said. "Yes, I am."

Luke nodded. They walked in silence for a time. Then Luke said, "My aunt and uncle were murdered by Imperials. That's… why I'm doing this. I want to stop them. I want to see an end to their arrogance and evil. For good." His eyes hardened, and he suddenly seemed a different person. Older, somehow. More dangerous.

Wedge had heard similar sentiments expressed many times over, and with as much vehemence. But there was something indefinably different in the way that Luke said them, something that made them seem more than youthful overconfidence. Something that made them real.

"That's what we're fighting for," Wedge said.

Luke glanced at him and then nodded, and it was as though something had been agreed between them. Something under and around their words, a pact sealed in shared experience and understood pain, in unflinching resolve.

They had reached the locker-room. Wedge pointed Luke towards the area for new fittings. "Thanks," Luke said. "Thanks a lot, Wedge. Glad to have met you."

As the other man was turning away, Wedge said, "Luke!"

He turned back, and Wedge asked, "What squadron have you been assigned to?"

"Red squadron," the young man said. And with pride, "I'm Red Five."

"Well," Wedge said, somehow not surprised. "I'll see you soon then."

Luke tilted his head, and Wedge said, "I'm Red Two."

Luke flashed a cocky grin, and touched two fingers to his forehead in salute. "See you soon, Red Two," he called, and turned into the crowd.

Wedge turned for his locker. Luke Skywalker, he mused. He had a strange feeling that it was a name that a lot of people would be hearing before too long.

Wedge thought of his parents later, as Yavin's green lushness dropped away below his X-Wing. They often came to mind as he went into battle. Who knew – he could be joining them today. Wedge knew the odds for this fight, and knew it was very likely he wouldn't make it back to Yavin today. He knew it, and he accepted it. He'd lost youthful faith in his own invincibility the first time he'd flown in battle, when he'd lost two his dorm-mates to white-hot fire and come within a hairsbreadth of following them himself.

No, he was not immortal. But he wanted to last as long as he could, to fight another battle, to push the mighty behemoth of Imperial arrogance back, inch by torturous inch.

And it wasn't just his own life he fought for today. All those on the base below were entrusting their lives to he and his fellow pilots, and Wedge wasn't going to let them down. He would fight for them and for his parents, and celebrate their legacy of courage through his every breath.

The Death Star loomed, filling Wedge's viewscreen. Red Leader called for all wings to report. Wedge announced his call sign.

The Empire had to be stopped.

_I want to stop them. I want to see an end to their arrogance and their evil. For good._

"Red Five, standing by," Wedge heard, and the farm kid from Tatooine sounded calm, determined, assured. As though this was his hundredth flight, not his first. Like a seasoned soldier. Like Wedge, a veteran at twenty, dancing with death as he plied the stars, numb to his own mortality as he fought for the galaxy's innocents.

Wedge Antilles smiled, and the battle began.

END


End file.
